


Dead Air

by Romany



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Fic Challenge, M/M, Season/Series 05, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-15
Updated: 2007-02-15
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romany/pseuds/Romany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel's no good on the phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Air

Spike downs the last of his beer, chucks it in the bin by the sink. Fixing to go out and make the world a safer place for humanity or somesuch. Maybe get a proper drink after.

Phone chirps in his coat pocket so he answers business-like, professional.

"Spike here. Helping the hopeless."

"You can't say that. That's my line."

Oh, Angel then.

Hardly a word's passed between them these two weeks. Just short nods in the hallway.

"Right. Want it back, then? Could use a night off."

Dead air in response to that. "Supposed to listen to you not breathe, Angel?"

"No...so what are you doing?" Odd, sounds nervous.

"You're not much for the phone, are you?" More dead air. "Well, not much of a chat then, is it? So..."

"Spike..."

"Couldn't possibly be a booty-call. Not from the mighty Angel in his tower..."

"I haven't changed the codes. Let yourself in when you're done."

 

Patrolling turns out not to be much, but Spike manages to make a mess of it. Zengi demons, godawful creatures, blood like glue. Has a fine time mucking about. Not like he needs to be powder fresh.

By the time he manages to make it to the suite, the lights are all off. He finds Angel in bed, asleep, paperwork still in his hand.

"Took your time," he says, rousing. "How was it?"

Spike, who should be arse-down on a barstool, shucks off his coat. "You're still a bastard. Hope you know that."

Angel leans up on one elbow, smiles. "Yeah, but I'm a lonely one."

No truer words and Spike knows it. "Let me have a wash, don't want to mess the sheets."

"It can wait until morning."

Angel grabs his hand, pulls him down, the kiss deep and needful.


End file.
